


Diestel

by CastielsCarma



Category: Home of the Orange Devil
Genre: Crack, Destiel Adjacent, Destiel is canon, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Sorry Not Sorry, fucking canon, how is 2020 real, in the year of 2020, wtf is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 11:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27470068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma
Summary: Jordan, the People aid at the White House has had enough. And when he finds out Destiel is canon, well, that pushes him over the edge.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jordan and his sanity, Jordan and his sense of what's right
Comments: 14
Kudos: 73





	Diestel

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know... lmao
> 
> Destiel is canon! So here is a reality crack fic.

Jordan watched the President of the United States, Donald J. Trump pace back and forth in the Oval office. “Any news, Jordan?”

Jordan exhaled but it was soft, he didn't want to alert Trump that he was over the moon excited. He'd just come back from his mandated sixty minutes break and as it was a Thursday, he had watched the latest episode of Supernatural. And oh, boy.

“They are still counting the votes in Nevada, Mr. President.”

“They should stop the counts! We already won. It's illegal to count the votes after election day.”

Jordan looked at Damien, Trump's Constitution aide. Not that the motherfucker was doing a good job of explaining the Constitution to Trump. Jordan adjusted his tie and took a step to the right. “You go and talk to him again, Damien or I swear. He fucking lost. Now go do your job.”

Jordan was grateful that he wasn't the Constitution aide. No, his job was simple. Quite by accident, he was spotted one day when he was mowing his backyard. A Secret Service guy had nabbed him and through a series of other, non-important events, Jordan Adrian had become Trump's People aide.

Jordan had been slightly confused since he didn't even belong to the Republican party but Trump's people had said that it was important that he wasn't. He needed to get to know the other side, _the people_. Jordan hadn't told them that he wasn't a Democrat either.

He was a fool to think that he could imbue Trump with some sense of decency and compassion. What could he achieve if seventy years of lived experience as a human couldn't? Well, he was gonna resign tomorrow but it was sweeter to do it today, after Trump's election loss.

Damien ambled over to Trump and Jordan could see how he narrowed his eyes and spaced out even trying to grasp what Damien was talking about.

He stared straight ahead. It was not like Trump asked about his opinion often, even if Jordan gave it anyway. Some of Trump's ideas for being likable gave him the chills. Jordan decided to think about the only good thing that had happened so far this day. It was hard because he wanted to sag down to the floor and cry with happiness.

“Jordan, come over here.” Trump was waving at him. Sure, you lumpy, walking Cheeto.

“Yes, Mr. President.”

Not his President. He saw that Trump was holding his phone in his hands. Probably writing nonsense on Twitter again. A small smile graces his lips. He almost asked Trump if all his posts still had warnings.

“These things _trending,_ the Us-election – it's all about me, I won it fair and square, and Putin and ham. Why is the Us-election, Putin and _ham_ trending.”

Jordan tries to keep a blank face. “Ham, Mr. President?”

Trump squints at his phone. “Yes, ham. Diestel.”

Jordan bites the inside of his cheek. Lord, Jensen, and the bluest blue of Misha Collin's eyes, someone help him. Was he really going to have to explain this to the President of the United States.

“I don't think it's Diestel, the uh... ham. It's more of a ship.”

Trump narrows his eyes in confusion. “Ship.”

Jordan keeps forgetting, it's Trump he's dealing with. “It's Destiel. From the show Supernatural.”

“Never heard of it.”

Of course, you haven't you giant sack of turd. “It's a good show.”

“So what is this Diesel thing? Why is that more important than me?”

Jordan looks at Trump's tie. It's red and too long. Off-kilter. Like the man himself. “Destiel. Uh, it about Dean Winchester and Castiel. It's the name of them as a romantic couple, Mr. President. It was just confirmed that it's official.”

On the inside, Jordan screams. It's canon, bitches. On the outside, he's cool as a cucumber.

“What about Putin?”

“He is not in the show Supernatural.” Trump glares at him. “Sir.”

Trump turns to another aide and starts talking. “Nevada is cheating. Those mail-in ballots are all frauds. We'll sue them. We'll sue everyone.”

Destiel is canon. And the President is an unhinged crazy potato. He is the People aide. He is the _people._ And the people have had enough. And Destiel is fucking canon.

“Trump!”

Trump turns, annoyance written on his face. He doesn't like that people keep forgetting he is the president. ”I yield my fucking time! You don't need a People's aide.” He rips off his security badge. “Destiel is canon, Diestel is ham and you're a turnip! The people have spoken. You're fired. And I'm out.” He tosses the badge on the floor and walks out and stares right at Mitch McConnell.

The aides are stunned. Jordan turns to look at all the aids and Trump. “You are all in this. My ship has sailed but your fucking ship will sink. You're all a disgrace. Bye bitches.”  
  
He turns to McConnell. “You're a fucknut turkey-chin and you'll burn in hell.” Man, he's wanted to say that forever. 

Jordan closes the doors with a loud bang and runs to his freedom. 

Destiel is canon.


End file.
